Buy Mark Cassell a coffee

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Mark wants to write about your FEAR. Known for supernatural fiction, even steampunk and sci-fi, this time he wants to dig deep into your personal and crushing fears. Tell him.

Tell me ...

What is your biggest fear, or worry, or something that chills you to the core? Especially if it's something no one else "understands."

The weirder, the better.

I will write something personal about it, and maybe I'll name the character after you (your choice). I'll take your FEAR to a higher level, and the story will be published in a future release.

All I ask is that you buy me a coffee. Indeed, if you have more than one fear ... well, perhaps you think they're worth a number of coffees? I shall leave it up to you to decide their worth.

I've already got the cover art in motion, created by the horror author Kealan Patrick Burke (he's a talented man).

I look forward to writing your FLASH FEAR.


My eternal gratitude to ALL you guys!

M.


Note: This is an ongoing project throughout 2020.


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Flash Fear

Feb 16, 2020

TELL ME WHAT SCARES YOU

What is your biggest fear, or worry, or something that chills you to the core? Especially if it's something no one else "understands."

The weirder, the better.

I will write something personal about it, and maybe I'll name the character after you (your choice). I'll take your FEAR to a higher level, and the story will be published in a future release.

All I ask is that you buy me a coffee.

Indeed, if you have more than one fear ... well, perhaps you think they're worth a number of coffees? I shall leave it up to you to decide their worth.

I've already got the cover art in motion, created by the horror author Kealan Patrick Burke. He's one of the good guys, so if you haven't already done so, go check out his books. He's talented. In creating covers, too! Damn that man and his skills.



I look forward to writing your FLASH FEAR.

My eternal gratitude to ALL you guys,

M.


Please note: This is an ongoing project that will take us throughout the year, with a release date most likely for 2021.


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A chance to win something special

Jan 31, 2020

You can be in with a chance to grab a signed proof copy of my latest book Stitches & Threads. It's stamped Not For Resale because it's a one-of-a-kind thing before the paperback itself goes to print. Unique, no less! All you need to do is ... you guessed it ... buy me a coffee.

Doing so will immediately put your name into a "cyber" hat. When there's enough in there, I'll hit the random button from my end and whip out a name. If luck is on your side, I'll sign the book and send it to you. By the way, the more coffees you buy me, the more chances you'll have of winning that special paperback!

Now, this is the REALLY EXCITING part (yeah, it gets even better): Whether or not you win the book, you'll get yourself something incredibly personal.

Something Personal

You can sit down at a cyber cafe with me and we'll share a coffee. Regardless of your chances to win the proof copy of my latest release, the website is a simple thing where you can show your support. If you're kind enough to buy me a coffee, then I'll write something personal based on a random photo (regularly updated to mix things up). The little tale I write for you will of course be focused on the two of us sharing that coffee.

And I promise to make it in a similar weird vein as you've come to expect from me. I promise you won't be dissapointed. Who knows? Maybe one day I'll have enough of them to put into a book of their own. Then you'll have your name on the very page of your story. Plus, of course, you'll be in with a chance to win that proof copy of Stitches & Threads!

As always, I thank you for being here.

Your friendly neighbourhood author guy,

M.

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Someone bought a coffee.

Enjoy 😁

Cchristine57 bought a coffee.

Hello Mr. Cassell.  My biggest fear is tiny holes.  I once saw a post of something growing out of someone’s hand and I was beyond disturbed for over a day.  A bunch of tiny holes creeps me out more than anything in the world. 

Christine! This inspires me from many angles. Thanks for getting involved with the project, and thanks for the coffee. M.

S.D. Vassallo (@diovassallo) bought a coffee.

The situation I think that would terrify me the most would be: Being up on a skyscraper still under construction, where it's mostly just still the framework (metal beams, etc.), and having to avoid being bitten by a deadly venomous snake that's pursuing me relentlessly.

Stephen, I'm going to have fun with this! Thank you for participating, and the coffee. M.

@prmcdonough bought a coffee.

☠️ To the wicked. 

You pass me my coffee, and we head for the doors and out into the cold air. The pavement hums with activity: several people hunch over someone who appears to have fallen over. A couple of people have their phones out and are recording the spectacle, while others are giving the person attention. A young man, perhaps in his twenties, lays on his back, eyes wide and staring up the cloudless sky. His occasional blinks suggests he is absolutely fine. He appears to be breathing okay, and certainly seems to be quite comfortable, and dare I say it: content with how he lays on the paving outside the coffee shop. The fact that a gleaming broadsword sticks vertically from his chest seems to mean absolutely nothing to him. In the distance, a siren can be heard, far off yet increasing in volume the nearer the vehicle gets. "Hold my coffee, dude," you say to me. You rush forward, stand astride the man, and grasp the hilt. "What the hell is he doing?" someone shouts. You yank the blade from his chest. Blood gushes upwards, spraying everyone in a crimson mist. Including yourself. Screams and shouts rise up around us, and someone tries to grab you. You stand there, legs still either side of the man -- whose dead eyes now stare up at nothing -- and you go about swinging the blade round and round. And with quite the skill, I must add! The steal edge cuts through everyone around us like they were nothing. In no less then ten seconds, the ground is littered with dismembered limbs, chopped up chunks of flesh and fabric scattered about the ground. Blood oozes into the cracks between the paving slabs. You grin at me, your teeth shining white through the bloody mask. I pass the coffee back to you.

Mort bought 3 coffees.

Toss a coin to your writer ✒️ 

You step out of the coffee shop with our drinks in hand, and pass me mine. "Thanks," I say, but don't look at you. Puzzled, you follow my gaze: I'm staring at a person huddled on the seat at the bus stop. They hold something bright and glowing red, like some kind of beacon about the size of a football. The light brilliantly glows around their hands. The person moves, and we see it's a man. He straightens up, glaring at a passing car. A great hum emanates from it and a beam of fiery light shoots out to blast the vehicle. There's no Hollywood explosion or great roaring fire. Nothing like that all. The car simply flares up in a red mist, and then folds into itself to vanish with an audible pop. He does it again and again, to several passing cars. People scream, yell, running from the scene and away from the bus stop, away from us. "Hold this," you say, while passing me your coffee. You rummage through your bag and pull out a similar orb, only your one glows blue. Its brightness lends your face a soft sheen. Arms outstretched, a pulse of blue-green light fires from your orb and straight into the man. In a huge surge of brilliant and blinding light, he falls to his knees, still clutching his now-fading ball of light. His groan is stolen as he folds into himself. He, too, vanishes with that peculiar popping sound. "I hate those guys," you say to my stunned silence. I watch you put away your orb. You grab the coffee from me, grinning, and walk off. I quickly follow, giving the bus stop one final glance. A faint wisp of turquoise mist drifts along the bus shelter's row of seats, down and along the ground, and disappears.